


Moonflower

by K_K_TiBal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Animal Transformation, Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), Cursed Dean Winchester, Familiar Dean, M/M, Magical Violence, Mutual Pining, Shapeshifting, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Spells & Enchantments, Witch Castiel, Witch's Familiar Dean Winchester, fic request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 04:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17821823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_K_TiBal/pseuds/K_K_TiBal
Summary: Castiel is not a very good witch.He's just not.He struggles with potions, illusions, divination - everything that makes a witch respectable, and his familiar - Dean - definitely deserves better than him.When Dean falls under a curse that seems to affect his shape-shifting abilities, Castiel and Dean begin to run out of money, and Castiel decides the best thing they can do is go after a rare Moonflower to help get themselves back on their feet.The journey could be dangerous, especially considering Castiel's less-than-ideal abilities and Dean's curse, but with a little luck, it will all be worth it in the end.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Ficfacers Charity Auction! The prompt I received was: Asexual Character, Magic AU.  
> A HUGE thank you to [whelvenwings](http://whelvenwings.tumblr.com) for being the best damn beta reader in the world.  
> As always, you can also find me over at [thebloggerbloggerfun](http://thebloggerbloggerfun.tumblr.com) on Tumblr :)

“Looking for anything special today?”

Castiel looked up from the bundles of sage he’d been inspecting and shook his head, as the shopkeeper regarded him from behind the high counter at the front of the store. He was an older man, with grizzled shoulder-length hair and a kind smile. Castiel didn’t blame him for being curious; it was a smaller village, and Castiel was new.

“Just here for some spell ingredients,” Castiel said, returning the smile. “I’ve nearly run out.”

The older man nodded and pointed over to a corner of the shop.

“Well, if you’re looking for stuff for _Find Familiar_ , it’s over there. And there’s a chart to help you figure out the best time to perform the spell based on your birth date and location, if you’re a believer in the importance of such things.”

Castiel pursed his lips, looking awkwardly over towards the corner the older man was pointing to and then away. He paused as, on a table nearer to him, he caught sight of a detailed topographical map; he let his gaze roam over it for a couple of seconds, as he tried to avoid the helpful stare of the shopkeeper.

Something about it caught his eye.

“Ah, no - that’s alright,” he said eventually, into the silence. “I’ve already summoned my familiar. I’m here for other spellwork.”

“Oh. Sorry about that, I guess I just didn’t see them -”

“No, he’s at home right now. Feeling under the weather.” Castiel stepped forward, grabbed the map, and brought his armful of plants and other products up to the front of the store. He set them down on the counter in front of the shopkeeper, while trying to avoid eye contact. He was well aware of how odd it was to see a witch _sans_ familiar, and that his excuse was a flimsy one, but no one needed to know the specifics.

The shopkeeper, to Castiel’s relief, only nodded his head and began totalling up Castiel’s purchase.

“That will be three coppers and one silver.”

Castiel dug around in his pocket, pulling out his small satchel of coins and already feeling his heart sink to his stomach at how light it felt.

He dumped the coins into his palm, counted them, then sighed. Castiel glanced at the map, then back at his herbs.

“How much for everything without the sage?”

The shopkeeper’s gaze turned to one of pity - something that Castiel loathed to see - and he recounted, wrinkled old hands tapping each item.

“Just the silver.”

Castiel handed him the coin and gathered up the various ingredients with a nod.

“Thank you very much, sir.”

The man waved as Castiel left the shop, and headed down the muddy street.

***

Castiel shivered as he pushed the door in, and was immediately greeted by the warm touch of a long-lit fire. It crackled in the grate, seeming merrily unaware that it had been the cause of trouble before Castiel had left for the shop; Castiel gave it a glare, but he couldn’t deny he was grateful, now, for its heat.

“You’re back!”

Castiel tossed his coat onto a nearby chair and turned to see Dean poking his head out of his room with a smile. He felt a thud of delight in his chest - partly his own, of course, but part of it with the distinct feel of _Dean._ The unique shape and texture of Dean’s feelings, Dean’s thoughts. Along their connection, Dean’s happiness at seeing him was a pleasant warmth, better than anything a fire could give.

It wasn’t as strong as it used to be, the link between them - but Castiel could feel Dean pushing the emotion towards him, strengthening it, wanting Castiel to feel welcomed home.

“I’m back,” he confirmed, heading towards the fire with his hands outstretched. He glanced over with watchful eyes as Dean walked into the main room with confidence, not even walking gingerly. “How are you feeling, Dean?”

“Hearty as a horse.” Dean leaned against a nearby wall and shrugged his shoulders. “No big deal.”

A picture flashed across Castiel’s mind - an image, a memory, from just before Castiel had left to buy his herbs: Dean, doubled over in pain, grasping onto Castiel’s arm for support with his face twisted, their connection scalding with the intensity of the hurt.

“It _is_ a big deal,” Castiel said, frowning at Dean’s forced nonchalance. “It’s getting worse.”

Dean rolled his eyes but nudged Castiel with his shoulder fondly as he walked past to get the prime spot in front of the fire, sitting down in the big old chair. He was probably able to sense Castiel’s worry. Castiel did his best to pull it away from their connection, put it in the place in his mind where Dean couldn’t feel it.

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Castiel opened his mouth to argue.

“You know what _is_ kind of a big deal?” Dean interrupted, stretching out in front of the heat. “The fact that we’re running real low on money. I was thinking that I could get a job hauling some goods -”

“Out of the question.”

“- as a _person_ , Cas,” Dean said, shooting him a look. “Without shifting. Just a plain old pair of hands. You could keep selling your trinkets, and I’ll do some manual labor to bring in some extra change.”

Castiel frowned, and busied himself by turning away from the fire to sort the ingredients he’d just purchased.

“I don’t like the idea of us being apart,” he murmured, trying not to show how worried he was.

“It wouldn’t be for that long. A couple weeks at a time at most. Not enough to affect our magic.”

Castiel shook his head, shoving the dried thistles over to one side of the table.

“That’s too long. Your magic is too volatile right now to be alone for any extended period of time.”

Castiel glanced over at Dean when he said nothing in return, but he was just staring up at the ceiling, looking as if he was trying to get control of his emotions. Again.

It was frustrating for him, Castiel knew. For all of Dean’s life, he’d been able to shift in and out of his animal form with ease and grace, even more so since they’d found each other. They were the perfect team - the perfect complements to each other - as they were designed to be.

So much could change in just a couple of months.

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing while you do all of the work,” Dean said, when he’d seemingly found his voice again. “That’s not how this is supposed to be. We’re a team, Cas.”

Castiel rubbed at his eyes and sat down in a chair.

“You shouldn’t have shifted to haul in the firewood. I could have done it on my own,” he said, and regretted it as soon as the words left his lips.

“I’m fucking _fine,_ Cas!” Dean sat up, looking angrily at him. “It’s just a little curse. People get cursed all the time, and it wears off eventually.”

“But yours isn’t!” Castiel shot back, clenching a fist at his side. “It’s getting worse every day - causing you more pain with every shift. And we don’t even know what the curse was.”

“It’s my own damn fault. I shouldn’t have let that witch get at me, but here we are, so I’m just going to deal with it.”

“You’re going to _hurt_ yourself!” Castiel said, sensing the annoyance and frustration rise and flare higher from Dean’s end of their connection.

Dean’s jaw was clenched as he stood back up and walked over to his room.

“That’s better than doing nothing.”

And he shut the door behind him.

***

“Dean.”

Castiel knocked on the door lightly, and chewed at his lower lip.

With time to think, he’d managed to gain a little perspective.

The curse was obviously stressful on the both of them, but it was worse for Dean, and Castiel needed to let Dean make his own choices about it - despite what he thought was right.

“What.”

The voice was flat, and made Castiel wince.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Sorry for what I said before. I’m just worried about you. And I’m letting it get in your way.”

There was a beat of silence on the other side of the door, then the creak of wood, and the door opened a few inches to show Dean leaning his head against the wooden door frame.

“Don’t apologize, Cas. I’m...being an asshole.”

“No, you’re not. I’m being unreasonable.” Castiel wrung his hands together and shook his head. “I’m your witch. It’s my job to protect you, and I’m not -”

“And I’m your familiar. It’s _our_ job, to protect _each other._ ” Dean corrected, but it didn’t help the shard of guilt that had been wedged into Castiel’s heart for the past couple of months. “Look, if you don’t want me to take that job, then that’s fine. But I need to find _something -”_

“I think I have something,” Castiel said, clearing his throat as Dean cocked his head curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever heard of a Moonflower?” Castiel asked, moving aside as Dean left the room and closed the door behind him, stepping out into the fading heat of the fire.

Dean shook his head after a moment’s pause.

“It’s a powerful potion ingredient. It only grows in the winter at the bottom of waterfalls, and blooms at night.”

Dean folded his arms and frowned.

“That’s extremely specific.”

Castiel nodded.

“It is. It’s very rare, and… worth a lot of money.”

“And you think you know where one is?”

“Theoretically.” Castiel scratched at the back of his neck and shrugged his shoulders. “I… bought a map today. It says there’s a waterfall just past the next town and into the forest a little. It might be worth it to just look and see…”

Castiel trailed off when Dean didn’t say anything, only looked at him critically.

“How dangerous would this journey be?”

“I - uh -” Castiel swallowed. “I don’t know. I don’t know the area, and I don’t know what’s in the forest. I’m not the best with maps and it’s going to be very cold. It... feels like a last resort, if I’m being honest… but we could really use the money we could sell it for.”

Dean shifted on his feet, and Castiel knew that look from him all too well. The “I don’t want to crush your spirit, but I also don’t want you to do something stupid” look.

They were both experts on that look.

“I don’t like it.” Dean said, shaking his head. “Too much could go wrong.”

“But so much could go _right_.” Castiel pleaded, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “That flower could help us live more comfortably, while we’re… making a plan for the future.”

Dean grimaced.

“Is it really so bad if I just get a job?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, really - yes, it was unusual for a witch to be separated from their familiar, but as Dean had said, that was more about social convention than practicality, since their magic wouldn’t suffer from being apart for a short amount of time.

But… Castiel didn’t at all like the idea of Dean being somewhere for any extended period of time without him. The last time that had happened - well.

That was the reason they were in this mess.

Castiel said nothing.

Dean glanced at the hand on his arm, and let out a long sigh.

“Fine. Okay,” he said, then pointed a finger at Castiel. “But the _moment_ I think things are getting too dicey for us, we’re out of there. I’m not risking your life over some dumb flower.”

Castiel smiled, and decided now was probably not the time to remind him that he was more than adept at taking care of himself. He might not be the most powerful witch in the world, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

And besides that, they both knew that of the two of them, Dean was the rarity. He was the one who shouldn’t be risked.

But Castiel had already got his way, and didn’t want to push his luck by bringing that up.

“Agreed,” he said, and let go of Dean’s shoulder to hold out his hand.

Dean rolled his eyes, but Castiel didn’t miss the hint of fondness as he gripped it, shaking once to seal the deal.

“Alright, let’s get packed. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel tugged the scarf up over his nose as an icy wind picked up, beginning to blow in their faces. They’d both known it would be a cold journey, considering their prize, Castiel thought to himself - but did it really have to be  _ so _ cold? 

“If you want to call this whole thing off, let me know,” Dean said, and Castiel could tell that he was grinning a shit-eating grin from underneath his own scarf.

Castiel just adjusted the bag on his back and shoved his gloved hands in his pockets for extra warmth. 

“Don’t tell me a little chill is already putting you off,” Castiel said, his voice a little muffled. “Do you need a warmth spell already?”

“Nah, just worried about  _ you.  _ No need to waste your energy on that.” Dean nudged him playfully and kicked at a tree root sticking up out of the road. “But out of curiosity, how long is it supposed to be until we reach the town?”

“A couple more hours on foot. We can get some rooms for the night, provided they’re not outrageously expensive, then we’ll head out into the forest in the morning.”

Dean nodded, and said nothing for a few moments. 

“We could also just get one room. That’d be cheaper.”

Castiel nearly stumbled as he walked, and felt his face tinge red from something that wasn’t the cold. People at the inn would absolutely think that they were… together. Most people did, anyway. A witch and their familiar had one of the closest bonds two beings could have - it wasn’t out of the ordinary for a duo to become involved that way.

He and Dean were not, of course. 

They lived together, yes, but that was because they were witch and familiar. 

“Oh, I mean, yes. We could. I brought an extra bedroll so I could take the floor -”

“I meant I could just shift and sleep outside,” Dean said with a small shrug. 

Oh. Right.

Castiel wasn’t about to allow that to happen, though. Not with Dean the way he was at the moment.

The trees around them grew thicker, the road leading them into snowy woodland, but the cover did nothing to block out the chill of the wind as it blew past. Castiel found himself stepping a little closer to Dean. 

“Hmmm.” 

Castiel glanced over at Dean when he felt him tense at his side, and still not relax at least ten seconds later. 

“Everything alright?”

Dean glanced from side to side surreptitiously.

“No, something’s wrong.”

Behind them, there was the crack of a twig underfoot.

It only took a moment for Castiel to set his gloves aflame with a muttered incantation and a clap that ignited the enchantment he’d placed on them, and spin around at the feeling of his hair standing up in end - only to find a group of five dropping down from the trees.

A few of them had knives brandished in their hands, though two were unarmed - and those were the most worrying of them all. 

“Stay back,” Castiel said, holding his hands out menacingly. “We don’t have anything of value.”

It was mostly true. He and Dean didn’t have much in the way of coins or jewelry. Castiel did have the Infinity Satchel he’d enchanted last year holding both of their tents and blankets and rations, but other than that he’d hoped they’d looked too poor to bother robbing. 

The  _ last _ thing they needed were some highwaymen taking what little they did have.

“Oooo, a witch,” one of them said, turning to snicker at the woman by his side. He was on the shorter side, covered head to toe in meager rags to block out the cold, but in an instant his hands were also on fire, mocking Castiel’s pose. “Two can play that game, love. Just hand over all your bags, and you’ll be on your way.”

“Fuck off, before you get hurt,” Dean spat, his fists balled at his sides, and Castiel could see him turning to keep watch on the other three who were trying to surround them.

The shorter man’s smile only became more sinister as he nodded at the woman next to him, who nodded back. Castiel’s jaw clenched as he watched, able to sense the tells of a witch and his familiar. 

Before Castiel could react, the woman had snarled and shifted into a striking black wolf, the top of her back at the perfect height for the highwayman to pat her comfortably. 

“Say hello to Juliet,” he said, running a hand through her thick fur fondly as she growled at the two of them. “Incredible, isn’t she? The largest and most powerful familiar I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.”

He reeked of a smug confidence that had probably been earned from years off showing off his familiar’s form and watching both witch and human cower. It was rare to find any familiar whose other form was larger than a cat. Most were birds, snakes, lizards, ferrets, toads, or other such creatures. Castiel wasn’t stuck on the belief that the size of the form meant more power supplied to the witch, but there were plenty who did, and plenty who would do anything to get their hands on the largest familiar they could find.

Both he and Dean knew that too well.

A wolf was… very impressive, indeed.

“If you’d like Juliet to  _ not _ rip out your throats at my signal, I’d recommend handing over your bags,” the highwayman said, patting Juliet again.

“We’re not intimidated by some mangy, flea-riddled mutt,” Dean shot back, and Castiel could hear the smile in his voice as he added, “or his familiar.”

Castiel tensed as Juliet took a step forward. Her snarling grew louder and she pawed at the ground. 

“Dean...” Castiel warned.

“And you?” the highwayman asked. “What are you? A beetle? Salamander? I’m sensing something… extra small.”

“That’s just your dick.”  

The man bristled at the insult, and Castiel clenched his fists, readying himself for anything. He knew Dean wanted to shift - he usually did during confrontational moments like these. But it hurt him now. It had to be a last resort.

“Juliet? It looks like we’ll have to teach him a lesson.”

“Dean,  _ don’t -” _

Dean turned and rested a comforting hand on Castiel’s arm, and gave him a knowing look.

“Hey,” he said, that stupid smile not leaving his face. “Bear with me.”

Dean winked and fell forward onto his hands before Castiel could say anything else, and Castiel stepped back, his heart pounding, boots crunching on snow as he made space for Dean to change. The sight was familiar, and he knew he should be watching the witch, watching Juliet, watching the rest of the thieves surrounding them - but in the silent, slowed-down seconds when Dean shifted, Castiel couldn’t take his eyes off him. 

Everything about him began to double - triple -  _ quadruple  _ in size. Thick brown fur burst from and stiffened along his spine, the backs of his hands, and then everywhere; his eyes widened, darkened, hardened, and his teeth lengthened into curved, finger-long promises of pain. A tremendous  _ roar _ filled the air, shaking snow from the trees, sending birds flapping in a panic for the skies, echoing down the road -  and even for Castiel, the raw throat-thick bellow lit up some primal fear in his brain. He held himself in place by force of will, promising his instinct that now - like always - the roar meant no danger for him. Only for the people in their way.

Silence fell in the snowy woods as Dean finished his shift. Right where a very human-looking Dean had once stood was now the hulking figure of a large, menacing grizzly bear. 

Dean slammed a paw against the ground and shook his head for effect as he growled. He let his jaw hang open a little way, air billowing in hot steam out of his mouth as he breathed. His eyes, black and bear-like, may have looked like they housed no hint of human mercy, but Castiel was always able to see Dean’s spark. Those eyes - Dean’s eyes - searched the faces of the robbers one by one, finishing on the witch.

The three other highwaymen turned tail and ran back into the woods within seconds of Dean’s shifting, as was the most common reaction.

“H - how - that’s -” The highwayman scrambled backwards and fell, and even his large wolf of a familiar looked like she was thinking twice about the fight they’d picked. 

“We warned you,” Castiel said, trying not to sound worried. “We don’t want to have to hurt you.”

Dean took another step forward, and Castiel could feel the thrill along their connection, but he could also feel the pain that Dean was masking.

He needed to end this soon. 

The highwayman was transfixed where he lay in the snow, staring up at Dean as Juliet growled defensively over him, tail tucked between her legs. 

Castiel shot off a ball of fire just next to the man’s head from his gloves, melting the snow around him instantly, just close enough for him to feel the heat. 

That seemed to knock him out of his daze. 

The man picked himself up and raced back into the woods, the wolf running by his side until they were both swallowed by snow and trees. 

Castiel extinguished his hands, relieved that the enchantment seemed intimidating and hadn’t malfunctioned, and knelt down in front of Dean as the giant bear stumbled for the first time since shifting, shaking his head a few times as he let out a low growl of pain. 

“Dean,” Castiel lifted his hands, feeling the anxious need to help - to do something - but he didn’t know what, “Dean,  _ hey, _ are you alright?”

Castiel rested a hand on either side of Dean’s face. Dean leaned into him, the weight of his great head heavy in Castiel’s hands. Castiel began stroking the fur along Dean’s cheeks to try to soothe him, the movement unselfconscious and natural after so long together. He could feel the burning, furious ache of hurt along their connection, though, and his touch did nothing at all to ease it.

Dean let out another growl, and looked into Castiel’s eyes. He was rigid with the pain, muscles locked.

“You shouldn’t have - “ Castiel stopped himself before he could finish the chastisement. That wasn’t what Dean needed to hear. Dean knew that if he shifted this would happen - he didn’t need Castiel reprimanding him over it again. “It’s okay -  _ you’re  _ okay. Just breathe. It usually passes in a few minutes. Relax, Dean. It’s easier if you relax.”

Dean’s massive form slumped to the ground, dragging Castiel down with him. Those huge bear muscles, cramped and hardened by the pain, went loose as he tried to ease into it. He lay there in the snow, great lungs breathing deeply, as Castiel held his head in his lap. 

He let out another murmur of complaint, this one higher, and sadder, and more scared.

“I know,” Castiel said. “Me too.”

Finally, Castiel could sense the pain slip away. 

“There we go,” Castiel murmured, scratching behind the bear’s ear like he knew he enjoyed, despite always denying it. “You should probably stay in this form for a while. At least until we get into town. You shouldn’t overdo it too much in one day.”

He got to his feet, brushing the snow off his clothes, though they were already soaked through with the snow. Hopefully walking in the weak sunlight would dry them out, though Castiel didn’t hold out much hope. It was going to be an uncomfortable walk until they reached the town. 

Dean harrumphed as he stood back up, his head nearly at the level of Castiel’s, and nudged at Castiel as he sent a sense of gratitude along their connection.

“Just...” Castiel adjusted his satchel and began walking down the pathway again, Dean following at his side, “... know your limits. We don’t understand this curse well, and it feels like it’s getting worse. Maybe shifting makes it last longer. Or get more painful. We don’t know.”

Dean huffed.

Castiel was silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of snow crunch under his feet. 

“I just worry.”

Castiel looked down at his gloves as he walked. He’d been pretty pleased with the results when he’d first enchanted them - they did exactly what he’d wanted them to do. But what was the point of them if he  _ should _ be able to simply do the same spell the highwayman had mocked him with, no need for gloves? These enchantments he made - they were just crutches. A desperate attempt to catch up in a race where he was always falling behind.

Were he a better witch, he might have been able to think of something different, and do something that would have ended the fight without causing Dean to feel like he needed to shift and save them. 

Were he a better witch, they wouldn’t be in this situation. 

Castiel stumbled when Dean shoved his giant bear body into him, nearly knocking him to the ground with the force of it. 

“ _ Hey -” _

Dean rolled his eyes as much as a bear could roll them and shook his head, sending him comfort. 

Castiel hadn’t realized all of the guilt he’d been allowing to leak through their connection - how much Dean had been feeling, second-hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel murmured. “It just feels like my fault.”

It was unfair, bringing it up when Dean couldn’t argue with him, only let Castiel feel his vague emotions. Dean’s frustration over that fact was definitely coming through, loud and clear. It was selfish of Castiel, and he knew it, but it was also easier. 

“I should have been there for you,” Castiel said. “I’m supposed to protect you, and I didn’t, and now -” 

Dean growled at him, and Castiel could feel the line he was crossing begin to come into sharper focus, as Dean’s annoyance at being unable to talk back pounded in his head. 

“- I shouldn’t have let a stupid argument keep me from being able to protect you,” Castiel pressed onward, unable to stop himself now that he’d started. “I wouldn’t blame you if you went and found another witch - a  _ better  _ witch -”

A wall of muscle and fur slammed into him and Castiel felt the wind get knocked out of him as he hit the ground.

He was pinned down, with the face of an unamused grizzly bear staring down at him. There was so much weight on top of him that it was almost difficult to breathe, but Dean knew what was too much, and he knew what he needed to make a point. 

Castiel shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the snow, trying to keep everything from spilling over - all of the guilt and pain that he’d been trying to keep from Dean since he’d been cursed. But it was too much, far too much to push away or hide, now; by saying it out loud, he’d called it up, and it had answered his summons with a vengeance. His heart was pounding, and it  _ ached,  _ ached with what had happened and what he should have done, what he’d do anything to go back and make right.

Warm breath misted against his neck and face, and Castiel felt soft fur nudge against him. He opened his eyes, and Dean was… trying to comfort him?  _ Dean  _ was the one who was cursed, and now he felt like he had to comfort  _ him? _

Dean’s snout was pressed into Castiel’s neck as he let out a low growl, urging insistence along their connection. 

“I know,” Castiel murmured, but he didn’t believe it yet. “I’m sorry for bringing it up when you can’t tell me I’m being stupid.”

The bear huffed and let Castiel up with a satisfied nod. 

He was definitely going to get an earful when Dean shifted back. 


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the walk was mostly quiet, since they couldn’t exactly converse. Castiel could talk and then he could feel whatever emotion Dean was pushing, and after so many years with each other, Castiel knew more or less what Dean wanted to get across in his bear form. 

It only took a couple more hours until they saw the town in the distance, and it was time for Dean to shift back. They used to be open about Dean’s form, travelling into cities and enjoying the stares and coin that Dean sometimes brought them - that was before they knew that there were people in the world who had bad intentions towards them. 

They were more careful now. 

“Wait, before you shift...” Castiel reached into his Infinity Satchel and dug around until he found the thick, wool blanket and set it out on the snow. “Okay.”

Dean tilted his head to the side, confusion emanating. 

“Just do it.”

The bear shook his head. He began to shrink, the fur softening and fading back into skin, great paws turning thinner and more delicate and dark eyes lightening to green, until a very human Dean was standing in front of Castiel, hands on hips, in the same clothes he’d been in when he’d first shifted. 

“Alright,  _ now  _ I can say that you’re being stupid, and -” 

Dean seized and grabbed at his sides, his face twisted in pain. 

Castiel’s heart clenched as he rushed forwards, catching him before he could completely collapse, and led him over to the blanket. 

“Ah,  _ shit  _ -” Dean groaned and rolled onto his side as he gasped for air, and Castiel didn’t know what he could do to help. 

For half a second Castiel considered running a hand through Dean’s hair to soothe him, like he had when he was a bear, but it felt different. Now it was too intimate. 

“What can I do?” he asked, near frantic as he watched Dean convulse. 

“Nothing - just -” Dean clenched his hands into fists and let out a few shallow breaths, which slowly turned into longer ones. “I’m okay. It’s fading.”

Castiel was chewing his lip raw as he knelt next to his familiar, and all he could do was wait. 

Dean eventually sat up with a weak grin and shook his head. 

“You know? I’ve had worse.”

Castiel frowned. 

“That was much longer than last time.”

“Nah, it was the same.” Dean waved him off and stood up off of the blanket, gathering it up for Castiel to put back into his satchel. “Thanks for that, though. Woulda sucked to do that in the snow.”

Castiel said nothing as he tucked the blanket away and studied Dean worriedly, noticing every twitch and limp that the pain caused him. 

“Stop thinking it’s your fault, Cas,” Dean said, able to talk him down properly now. “There’s no way we could have known. It was the wrong place at the wrong time for me.” 

Everything he said was true, but it was still difficult let himself believe it. 

“Besides, I got him in the end,” Dean said with a shrug, and winced at the dread he felt from Castiel at the memory of seeing Dean walk back through their door, still in his animal form, and covered in blood. “Oh. Sorry…”

“C’mon,” Castiel said, ignoring the apology and urged them forward towards the town. “The sooner we get the flower, the better.”

***

The inn was pleasantly packed with a good amount of people, but not so full that it felt overcrowded. There was a witch with a floppy hat in one corner putting on a performance to a small crowd, leaning heavily on illusion magic while her familiar, a small hummingbird, flitted around her. Wonderful-smelling food was being brought out, plate after plate, to tables of laughing people, as it looked like they’d dropped in just in time for the dinner rush.

“Excuse me,” Castiel said, walking up to the counter, trying to catch the attention of a blonde woman who was passing out drinks.

“Ale is a copper a mug,” the woman said, wiping her forehead on her sleeve and attempting a tired smile. “How many?”

“We’re just looking for some rooms,” Dean interjected, returning the smile. “Do you have any available?”

“Sure thing,” the woman began cleaning out a mug with a semi-dirty rag. “They’re two silver a night. That’d be a room each, would it?”

Castiel’s face fell as he reached for the bag of coins in his pocket, noting how dangerously light it already was. 

“Oh, did I say rooms? My bad. I meant room, singular.” Dean laughed and shook his head. “We’ll just take one.”

Castiel felt his face begin to turn pink when he watched her eyes flick between them and draw conclusions. 

“Of course. Give me just a minute and I’ll show you upstairs, gentlemen.”

“Thank you so much…” Dean trailed off. 

“Jo,” she said, smiling appreciatively. 

“Thanks, Jo.” Dean nodded and turned back around, leaning against the bar and letting out a breath. “Looks like it’ll be a long night.”

Castiel’s mind was already miles ahead, trying to figure out how to best convince Dean to take the bed and let him sleep on the floor, and paused to ask, 

“Why?”

“‘Cause I’m gonna find some place to sleep outside. I’ll have fur, so it won’t be too much of an issue, but -”

“No.” Castiel said bluntly. “Not happening.”

Dean sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

“Cas, I’m  _ fine.  _ It’s only uncomfortable for a little bit.”

“Even if you were able to shift normally I wouldn’t let you sleep outside,” Castiel said, almost offended that Dean thought he’d ever allow it. “Not like some common animal. It’s out of the question.”

Dean only gave him a warm half-smile.

“I mean, the other animals are pretty good company, not gonna lie.  _ And _ they don’t snore.”

“ _ I  _ don’t snore.”

Dean clicked his tongue and shook his head as Castiel’s mouth dropped open in protest. 

They were silent for a few moments, watching the small crowd that surrounded the young redheaded witch in the floppy hat and her familiar as she animatedly made a few things disappear and reappear to delighted cheers. She reached out a hand, and the hummingbird proudly rested on a fingertip. The witch waved a hand in front of the bird and when she pulled away - the bird was gone. The crowd gasped and clapped as she bowed deeply, taking her hat off her head in a swoop to reveal the hummingbird sitting in her hair. 

Castiel found himself chuckling as the bird jumped off and transformed into another younger-looking woman with curly brown hair and a beautiful dress.

“Remember when we used to do stuff like that?” Dean asked, nudging Castiel. “We didn’t earn near as many coins as those two seem to be.”

Coppers and even a few silvers were being tossed in the performers’ direction, and the redhead held out her hat with a smile to collect. 

Castiel smiled wryly at Dean. 

“That’s because I wasn’t good at magic. Or performing,” he mused. “She’s much better.”

Dean shook his head. 

“Nah, you were great. I think it was the fact that I turned into a thirteen-hundred-pound bear that scared people away.”

“You weren’t even close to thirteen hundred back then.” Castiel said, teasing him where he knew it would work. “You were  _ maybe _ six hundred.”

Dean narrowed his eyes.

“How  _ dare _ you?” 

“Okay, you two.”

They were interrupted by Jo, who gestured for them to follow her up a set of stairs to a new floor of the inn. 

“We’ll put you gentlemen right in here for the night. Does that work?”

The room was on the small side, but they had a single window and a bed and - most importantly - they were out of the cold.

“Sure does, thanks!” Dean stepped into the room while Castiel handed Jo the two silver. They were now on their last legs.

“Feel free to come down to dinner if you’d like. It’s just a copper each.” Jo wiped her hands on the front of her shirt and shrugged. “But if not, no worries. Have a good night.”

And she was gone. 

“I packed food,” Castiel said, and tugged off his satchel. “So we don’t need to worry about that. And of course you’ll be taking the bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor -”

Dean snorted. 

“Fat chance. You’re on the bed.”

Castiel only rolled his eyes as he began pulling the blankets out of his Infinity Satchel. 

“That’s not going to work. Just take the bed, Dean.” 

“Cas, I. Am. Fine.” Dean said, punctuating each word carefully. “I don’t need to be coddled or get special treatment. I can sleep on the damn floor just as well as you can.”

“I  _ know _ that, Dean,” Castiel snapped as he dropped the blankets with more force than was needed. “I  _ know _ you think you’re fine right now. I  _ know _ that you’re trying very hard to prove that everything’s the same as it was. But  _ I _ need to prove to  _ myself _ that I’m doing things to help you. I need to be doing  _ anything _ I can to make a difference. So, I know it isn’t much, but for my own sanity… will you  _ please _ just take the bed?”

Dean stared back at him, looking surprised by the outburst - and Castiel didn’t blame him. He hadn’t meant to say any of that, especially not to Dean. 

“Okay,” Dean said with a defeated shrug. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll take the bed.”

Castiel let out a breath, relief and guilt both fighting over each other in his chest.

“Thank you.” 

***

When the sun went down, the temperature dropped - but Castiel knew it wasn’t nearly as bad as it would be the next night, when they were camping out in the woods after a day of testing out their map-following abilities. He had to treasure what he had right now, while it was in his grasp. 

Castiel turned over on his makeshift bed on the ground, and stared up at Dean’s form on the real one. 

“Hey, Cas?”

Dean’s voice was low, and Castiel jumped a little, already feeling guilty for letting himself watch over Dean while he wasn’t aware. 

“Yes, Dean?”

“Thanks.”

Castiel frowned. 

“For what?”

There was a long beat of silence, and Castiel almost thought Dean had fallen asleep.

“I… I don’t think anyone’s ever... cared about me in the way you do, you know?” His voice dropped to near a whisper. “So… thank you.”

Castiel’s heart rose in his chest, and he nearly opened his mouth to remind him of Sam, who’d visited just a few months before - and Bobby, their old neighbor, and many other wonderful people who all cared about him, but he knew that Dean knew all of that. 

And he’d said it anyway. 

Castiel tucked himself into his blanket more securely, turning back away from Dean’s form.

“You deserve it,” he murmured.

No matter what it took, Castiel was going to make sure there were some things he never let slip through his fingers. 

And that was that. 


	4. Chapter 4

The wind shook the edges of the map as Castiel pressed it up against a tree. 

“We should have looked at it before we left,” Dean said, holding down a corner of the map to help stop the flapping. 

“Yes, I realize that  _ now, _ ” Castiel muttered, and squinted at the different markings. “Right, so if this is town...” He pointed at the cluster of inked buildings and dragged his finger towards the nearby treeline. “... Then this is about where we are. I’d say we have maybe a day and a half journey on foot until we hit the mountainside with the waterfall. At least, if the snow doesn’t get worse.”

Castiel brushed some of the snow from off his hair and let out a breath. He’d hoped that their journey would be free of actual snowfall, and they’d only have to contend with the snow that had already fallen and settled over the past week - but it looked like they weren’t going to be that lucky. 

“Cas.”

Castiel kept his eyes firmly on the map when he heard the tone of Dean’s voice - a tone that hinted at an argument. 

“This is going to be cold and wet,” Dean said carefully, like he understood the need to tiptoe around his next few words. “It’s going to be freezing tonight and all we have are some shitty tents and blankets. Not to mention the fact that we don’t know what’s in these woods. You know that I’ll follow you wherever, but are you  _ sure _ this is something you want to do? Go after a flower you  _ think _ might exist on the off-chance we can make some money?”

Castiel began folding up the map. 

“You said that you’d call it off if you thought it was getting too dangerous.” Castiel tucked the map away and looked at Dean. “Are you calling it off?”

Dean frowned, but shook his head. 

“Then yes. I would like to continue.”

“Okay, then.” Dean shoved his hands in his pockets. “Where to?”

The trees around them were aspen, creating a white-on-white scene against the snow as far as the eye could see - it felt a vaguely eerie in a way that Castiel couldn’t quite put a finger on. Maybe it was the unending monochrome that made his eyes tired after a while. Maybe it was how easy it made it to see things out of the corner of your eye. 

Maybe it was nothing.

He pointed towards the mountains in the distance, and shook off the feeling. 

“That way.”

***

The snow did not let up, but it also didn’t get worse.

For now. 

They trudged through the good few inches of the stuff that blanketed the ground, and Castiel could feel the cold seep into his feet, just as it probably was with Dean.

He hated that he was dragging Dean into this journey along with him, exposing him to the cold and the dangers, but the other option was to leave him behind. Alone. 

And he wasn’t doing that again. 

“So…” 

Castiel looked up when Dean spoke, and he’d been so lost in his own guilty thoughts he hadn’t realized the silence had been dragging on for longer than he’d thought. 

“This Moonflower. Where’d you hear about it?”

Castiel kicked at the snow as he walked. 

“I read about it.” 

“Like… in some catalogue? Did it have a price tag next to it and everything?” Dean asked. 

Castiel shook his head. 

“No. Just in a list of ingredients I was researching. The price wasn’t listed, but it was implied.”

“What’s it do?”

“It… heals.” 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yes.” 

“Must heal pretty great if it’s that expensive.”

“Almost instantaneously.” 

Dean let out a low whistle, and Castiel didn’t blame him. There weren’t many things like it in the world - which was why it was so rare and sought after. But it was good that Dean had asked. He needed to know how important it was that they succeed. 

“You know,” Dean said, and something in his voice and along their connection made Castiel turn to look at him suspiciously, “if I weren’t so worried about you dying from the wet and cold, you’d get a faceful of snow right about now.” 

Castiel narrowed his eyes. 

“Well, your triumph would be short-lived.”

Dean snickered and raised an eyebrow. 

“Why’s that?”

“Because I would simply cast a levitation spell on a few pounds of snow and drop it on your head,” Castiel said matter-of-factly. 

“Sure, but  _ I _ know that levitation spells wear you out fast, so I’d just have to stay out of reach long enough for you to give up.”

“Then I would simply tackle you.” 

Dean snorted. 

“No, you wouldn’t.”

Castiel frowned and stopped in his tracks to glare at Dean with his hands on his hips. 

“You think I can’t?”

“Not that you  _ can’t, _ Cas,” Dean said with a shrug, “just that you  _ won’t. _ ” 

Castiel could feel the deeper meaning in his words, but try as he might, he couldn’t decode it. Did Dean think that Castiel wouldn’t risk hurting him? Because there was very little risk of that happening, especially with all of the padding from snow. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dean opened his mouth, then seemed to rethink what he was going to say. Instead, he smacked his chest and widened his stance. 

“Do it, then.”

Castiel blinked. 

“What?”

“Tackle me, Cas. Like you said you would.”

Castiel cocked his head, trying to read through the trickery that Dean was clearly planning to unleash. He  _ could _ do it. It would be easy enough. Was Dean really that sure that he wouldn’t?

“But you’ll be cold…” he murmured. 

“Do it, Cas!”

Castiel ran through it in his mind: running forward, reaching out, pushing against him, falling - probably on top of him. 

He felt the heat rise to his cheeks - and he understood. 

Did Dean understand?

“Come on, Dean.” Castiel turned away, staring down at his feet while he continued forwards. “We need to make good time before nightfall.” 

Dean fell into step beside him, and said nothing for a long while.

***

They walked all day. 

It was cold. 

It was wet. 

And Castiel could feel something that was going unsaid between them, both as intuition, and along their connection. 

When it began to grow dark, Castiel took out their small, battered tents, and whispered the command word he’d enchanted them both with, snapped his fingers - and they were pitched in a matter of seconds. 

Castiel tossed Dean one of the blankets and kept the other for himself.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

“‘Night, Cas.”

The inside of his tent didn’t do much to block against the bitter cold that soon sunk into every part of him - but it did block the wind, and he was sure that helped. It didn’t feel like much of a barrier, considering how much he was shivering, even with a blanket, but it wasn’t like there was much he could do about it. 

There was always a warmth spell, but the energy it would drain would nullify any rest he got, especially if he was casting it on both himself and Dean. 

He’d never been an amazing spellcaster, but in the couple of months that Dean’s powers had been cursed… Castiel could feel it affecting him as well, though he’d never admit it to Dean. 

So, the cold would be the cold. 

There was a vague sense of grumpiness on Dean’s end of the connection - probably from the cold. Castiel nudged at his own disgruntled acceptance of how frozen he was, hoping that maybe Dean would get some solace in the fact that they were both suffering. 

What he hadn’t expected was to feel Dean steel himself, and then shift. 

“Dean!” Castiel said, sitting up when he could hear Dean’s low grunts of pain and sense his insistence that he was  _ fine. _

There was nothing he could do, so he waited, ready to rush out of the tent at the first sign of something going worse than usual.

The pain seemed to seep away, as it usually it usually did after some time, and then the front half of a massive bear was taking up all the space in his tent. 

“ _ Dean, _ what are you  _ doing _ -”

The bear just grunted and leaned down to nudge him with his snout, urging Castiel to scoot over. 

“You won’t  _ fit - _ ” Castiel muttered, but adjusted himself to one side of his small tent. 

Dean dropped down next to him, the back half of his body exposed to the outside as he flopped one of his huge, furred legs over Castiel’s chest. 

The bear inhaled, and sighed, the warm air tickling Castiel’s neck. 

The body heat coming from Dean’s bear form was too much to ignore, and Castiel barely thought about it before rolling closer and tangling his finger’s in Dean’s fur. It was instant warmth. 

“Don’t do it again, okay?” Castiel murmured, the worry he felt still a constant presence in his mind. “I don’t want you hurting yourself any more.”

Dean only huffed and rested his chin against the top of Castiel’s head. 

The cold was no longer a problem.

***

“Cas, I think we need to talk.”

Despite Castiel’s insistence, Dean had shifted back into human form before they continued their journey. Castiel’s ability to tolerate watching Dean in pain, feeling the sear and sawing ache of it through their connection, was thinning. He felt constantly closer to the brink of doing something drastic, with no idea whatsoever what that might be.

“Yes?” Castiel said, turning to see Dean avoiding eye-contact. “If you’re going to try and talk me out of this, it isn’t near dangerous enough to -”

“Not about that,” Dean said, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Alright.” Castiel frowned. “What about?”

There was a silence that was only broken by the sound of crunching snow as they kept moving forward. 

“If we never figure out how to get rid of this stupid curse -”

“We will.”

“Cas.” Dean looked up for the first time and let out a breath. “ _ If _ we don’t - we should talk about you finding a new familiar to bond to.”

Despite the cold that had already sunk into his skin, the words fell on Castiel like a bucket of ice water. 

“No.”

“Cas -”

“ _ No, _ Dean. There’s no point in this conversation because we  _ will _ cure you.” Castiel clenched his fists as he walked.

“I know your magic isn’t doing as well,” Dean said softly. “You’ve barely used it in the past three days.”

“I’m  _ fine.” _ Castiel waved his hand, ignoring the irony of using the same words he’d heard Dean speak over and over again. “We don’t need to talk about this.”

“I… I don’t want to be the reason you don’t reach your full potential.”

Castiel stopped and let out a bitter laugh that caused Dean to step back. 

“I was never going to, Dean.”

“What?”

“Or rather, I already did. I’m at peak me, right now.”

“That’s just… not true…”

“Dean,  _ I’m not a good witch.” _ And there was no stopping it now, the flood of words he’d been hiding, hoping Dean might not sense. They tumbled from his lips. “I can’t - I - I can’t hold any spells for long without feeling drained far faster than anyone else I know. I can’t conjure well. I don’t have realistic illusions. I was  _ never _ going to be one of the Great Witches - because I’m… just not.”

Castiel’s hands were clenched at his sides, angry at himself for finally admitting it to Dean - but he  _ had _ to know, didn’t he? He had to know that Castiel couldn’t do any of the fancy tricks and spellcasting that any other witch would be eager to show off. They’d been together for years… it was incredible that a familiar as powerful as Dean hadn’t packed up and left for a different witch to bond to at the first sign of incompetence. 

Castiel had made him into a joke just by bonding to him.

“What are you _ talking _ about?” 

If Castiel had been expecting Dean to look at him like he’d known it all along, he couldn’t have been more wrong. More than anything, he looked baffled. 

“I’m… saying that I’m not good at magic,” Castiel repeated.

“Bulllshit.”

“Dean, you  _ know _ I can’t -”

“Because those aren’t your strengths!” Dean threw up his hands. “Not every witch is gonna be great at everything! I mean, look at the other witches we know… Balthazar’s potions are the worst thing I’ve ever tasted and Hael’s divination is so bad she’s seeing backwards. It’s impossible to be good at every aspect of magic, Cas.”

Castiel shook his head slowly.

“It.. it would just be nice to be good at  _ something. _ ”

Dean made a noise of exasperation and marched the few steps over to Castiel and grabbed at the bag he had dangling at his side and held it up. 

“You  _ invented _ this. You made a bag that’s twenty times bigger on the inside, and you made it on a boring Tuesday afternoon just because you didn’t want to carry a few potion bottles across town in your arms. And I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Castiel stared back at him, mouth hanging open. 

“But that’s not - it’s just -”

“It’s  _ genius _ , Cas. Because  _ you’re _ a genius. You’ve got gloves that catch fire on command, tents that set themselves up - and you’ve probably got ideas for ten more things bouncing around in that head of yours.”

Castiel flushed and had to admit to himself that, yes, he  _ did _ have more enchantments he wanted to test out; more he wanted to tinker with until they were perfect.

But that was just… a  _ hobby. _

“You have a gift for it,” Dean said, because he, apparently, wasn’t done praising something that didn’t deserve this much praise. “And that gift is going to take you places… if you can fully access it. Which you can’t do while you’re bonded to me like this.”

Dean wasn’t being fair. And not just in some abstract way that Castiel didn’t want to agree with - he was being a genuine hypocrite. 

“Yesterday, I told you I wouldn’t blame you for getting a better witch,” Castiel said, tugging his bag out of Dean’s hands and folding his arms in front of his chest. “Do you remember what you did when I suggested that?”

Dean turned his gaze away, huffing out a breath, probably sensing where this was going. 

“You  _ body-slammed  _ me.”

“Barely,” Dean muttered, and Castiel was only half-sure it wasn’t a pun. 

“My  _ point _ is that I was wrong to say that. We’re a  _ team _ , Dean. A team. Not just when it’s useful, or when it’s convenient. We’re in this together - because that is the entire point of our relationship. Do you understand?”

“Cas -” Dean’s voice was hesitant, but persistent, and Castiel was completely over this argument. 

“Dean! I  _ chose _ you! And  _ you  _ chose  _ me _ . To me, that means something.” Castiel stepped forward and shoved a gloved finger against Dean’s chest like it might help make his words matter more. “I’m not going to  _ abandon _ you when you’re at your lowest. Think about it. Would I be the witch you chose, if I could leave you like that?”

Castiel stood there with his finger on Dean’s sternum until Dean glanced at it, and something akin to affection trickled across the connection from Dean, despite the daggers Castiel knew he was staring. 

He drew his hand back quickly, and Dean shook his head with a defeated sigh.

“Stubborn son of a bitch.”

Castiel nodded once.

“I learned from the best.”

***

A blizzard hit a few hours later - suddenly and fiercely - just has Castiel had been dreading.

The wind blew icy needles into their skin as they trudged forward, the ridge of mountains in the distance growing closer, but not nearly close enough. 

“Cas!”

Castiel felt Dean’s hand on his shoulder, and stopped. 

“We’re not gonna make it there today!” he yelled over the sound of the howling wind. “We should camp for the night!”

Castiel nodded and pointed towards what he hoped was a decently clustered wall of trees they could try and hide behind, though the wind was bone-shakingly persistent. 

Thankfully, it only took a few seconds after pulling out the tents from his Infinity Satchel to get them set up - earning one of Dean’s pointed looks. 

The tents were small, but still sturdy, and appeared to be holding up in the wind fairly well. 

Castiel ducked inside the first tent and immediately flopped onto the ground, exhausted from trekking through snow and cold for so long. It wasn’t sundown yet, but he could easily sleep. 

If it wasn’t so cold. 

Wrapping himself in one of the blankets, Castiel shivered and took his gloves off - rubbing his hands together to get them warm. 

Along their connection, Castiel could feel Dean’s acknowledgment of the cold, and he immediately sent back a warning. Dean was  _ not _ to transform anymore. It wasn’t worth it. 

The tent flap opened, and Dean was crouching above him. 

“Fine. Scoot over.”

Castiel stared up at him and blinked once - twice. 

“What?”

“Scoot. Over. I’m cold and you’re cold. We should share body heat and you won’t let me do that as a bear.”

Oh. 

But… it was different when Dean was a bear. 

Wasn’t it?

“I’m… fine. It’s fine, Dean.”

“No, it’s not. It’s fucking freezing,” Dean said pointedly, and cocked his head. “Right?”

Castiel kept looking at him, helpless to argue. Dean was right. This should be an easy choice. 

But it wasn’t. 

Instead of arguing, Dean’s eyes grew soft - defeated almost - and he slowly sat cross-legged at the far side of the tent. 

“Can I ask why you don’t want me to touch you?” 

Castiel curled in on himself without fully realizing he was doing it, and straightened his back as a counter-correction. 

“Wh- I don’t, uh. What do you mean?” he asked, knowing exactly what he meant.

Dean worried his lower lip against his teeth for a few moments and ran a hand through his hair. 

The wind whistled outside. 

“You know, the worst part about this curse isn’t the pain that happens after shifting. It’s that I know I can’t be the bear as often as I want. Because you always have these walls up around me when I’m human that aren’t there in my other form.” Dean ducked his head down and tugged on a loose string along the hem of his shirt. “I know that it’s probably just… instinct. But you don’t seem to overthink it when I’m the bear. I… like it when you’re not afraid to touch me. I like the contact.”

Castiel could feel the tinge of guilt along with the sadness that was sighing through their connection. 

This had genuinely hurt Dean, and Castiel didn’t like that it had. 

He fidgeted. 

“Dean, I - I’m sorry, I -”

“No, it’s okay. I know it’s not personal.”

Castiel could feel the lie before he heard it - Dean knew it was just him. 

How could he not? Castiel avoided touching Dean as much as he could without being too blatant about it, though that ship had sailed a long time ago - he’d known that Dean noticed almost at once, after they’d first met and bonded. They didn’t brush hands, they didn’t sit too close to each other, they didn’t hug - all because Castiel made sure it didn’t happen. 

Castiel cleared his throat and began unravelling the scarf from around his neck when it felt too constrictive.

“May I please explain?” he asked, setting the fabric aside, ignoring the shaking in his hand. 

Dean looked up and nodded with a shrug. 

“You - you know… how I feel… about you,” Castiel said. 

They could hide things from each other along their connection, usually for a short time, and usually things that were small. Big things - extended feelings - those were impossible to keep under lock and key. What they were - what they felt - it had never been a secret to either of them. Not for a long time. 

It had simply gone unspoken. 

Even still, stating the obvious made Dean perk up, just a little. 

“... yes,” he said, hesitantly. 

Castiel licked his lips and pressed onward. 

“And I know… how you feel about me.”

Dean didn’t say anything this time, but Castiel felt the dam between them begin to crack as Dean stopped holding back so much. Trickles of affection and small streams of devotion found their way to Castiel, causing his breath to catch in his chest. 

“No,  _ no, Dean, _ I can’t -” Castiel shook his head, already overwhelmed with the small amounts Dean was showing him. “I can’t do this.”

“Do  _ what?” _ Dean sat up, leaning forward in concern. 

“This.  _ This. _ ” Cas pressed his eyes shut, trying to block it out.

“Cas, what’s wrong?” Dean pulled away, just a little, the feeling less intense. Castiel opened his eyes, saw the hurt on his face. “I don’t… I don’t get it. Why are you holding yourself back from this?”

Castiel hugged himself, digging his fingers into his sides. 

“You deserve someone who can give you what you want,” he murmured, refusing to look up at Dean as he spoke. 

“You  _ are _ what I want,” Dean said, an edge of frustration creeping into his voice. “We have this argument all the time - you’re not inadequate, okay? You’re exactly who I want -”

“I don’t touch you because I don’t want to give you the wrong idea,” Castiel interrupted, trying to level out his breathing as he dared to look back up. “I - I care about you  _ so much _ , Dean. I didn’t understand that for a long time b-because intimacy is… different for me.”

Castiel swallowed. It was too late to hold anything back, now. 

“The moments when we’re close, when we’re laughing, when we’re just… enjoying each other. That’s what I love. That’s my ideal. But, despite how I feel for you, that’s…  _ all _ that I want. I know it’s strange, but I don’t…”

The words wouldn’t come. 

“You don’t wanna have sex with me,” Dean said, and despite everything, he was softly smiling. “Yeah, I know. Is that what this whole thing is about?”

Castiel stared. Waiting. 

Waiting for the rush of disappointment to flood through their connection, or to sense Dean trying to hide it - but there was none of that. Just the same trickle of affection that he’d felt before, only stronger now. 

Dean  _ wanted _ him to feel it. 

“You know?” Castiel asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Dean shrugged, looking apologetic.

“Well, yeah. Of course I do. I feel what you feel almost all the time.” Dean folded his hands in his lap. “I’ve been trying… I mean, I felt you pulling away, so I didn’t wanna… but I tried to show you that it didn’t matter to me. Because it doesn’t matter to me. It’s not something you gotta worry about.”

The words  _ felt  _ genuine, as confusing as they were to hear. It was everything Castiel hadn’t allowed himself to even think about, and yet -

“I don’t want to deny you of anything, Dean,” Castiel said, though every part of himself tried to stop the words. He should just take what Dean said and run, not clarify. “I don’t want you to lose out on experiences you enjoy.”

“Losing? Losing out?” Dean breathed out a little laugh, and looked away for a second. “You really think that I ever look at you and feel like I’m losing out? Come on. You can feel it. I know you can.”

Castiel pressed his lips together, tight.

Dean was watching him. His eyes were on Castiel. And all Castiel felt from him - the shape of the feeling so familiar, so warm - was affection. Deep, tinged with hope and trust. Castiel breathed out, letting the feeling in. Letting it fill him.

“It’s not ever been about losing anything,” Dean said softly. “Ever. I’ve never thought of it that way. It’s been about being with you. Doing the things that we wanna do.”

“You…” Castiel managed, and then fell silent. He looked into Dean’s eyes, no words to say.

Dean let out a little huff and shook his head. “And I’d love to hug you right now, ‘cause you look a little lost, but it’s okay if you don’t want that either.”

After a brief moment of trying to keep his emotions in check - and deciding that answering would crack his composure - Castiel nodded and unclasped his arms from around himself, to stop closing himself off. 

Dean’s grin was overjoyed, the rush of happiness through their connection a heady thrill as he crawled over and wrapped Castiel in a tight hug. His arms were so strong; he held Castiel as a man with the same kind of power that he used as a bear. A lot, but not too much. Always, he knew Castiel’s limits - his boundaries - felt them, and respected them.

Castiel sighed out, and he let go, just a little. Just a tiny amount of what he felt for Dean, moment to moment - he let it slide along their connection. The warmth. The enjoyment of their shared space. The appreciation, the affection, the depth of feeling. He felt Dean breath in, and his heart pounded in his chest. 

The simple hug provided more comfort than anything Castiel had felt in his entire life. One thousand thick, wool blankets couldn’t hold a candle to the security of Dean’s strong arms. 

“You sure this is okay?” Dean whispered, the howling of the wind nearly drowning him out. 

“More than,” Castiel replied, letting himself relax into the hug. 

“Do you want to cuddle for warmth?”

Castiel smiled and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. 

“It does seem like the reasonable option.”

Castiel felt Dean’s chest rise and fall a few times - silent laughter - and they shifted so that Dean was wrapped around him, arms locked around his chest as he fit perfectly behind him. 

Castiel didn’t deserve him. 

“Yes, you do,” Dean murmured, tightening his grip for a few moments when he felt what Castiel had failed to conceal. “You deserve the world.”

Castiel let out a breath and closed his eyes. 

He didn’t want the world. 

He had everything he wanted right here.


	5. Chapter 5

“According to the map, the blizzard slowed us down by about a half a day. We should make it to the waterfall before sunset.” Castiel paused and flipped the map upside-down. “I think.”

When Dean said nothing, Castiel looked up and saw him leaning against a tree, smiling at him. 

“What?” he asked, a slow blush crawling up his face. 

“Nothing,” Dean said, not even bothering to hide the grin. “You’re just cute.”

Castiel cleared his throat more than necessary and pretended to be  _ very _ interested in the map. 

“So, uh, the woods get less dense coming up, and then we’ll hit the mountainside and hopefully the waterfall. I’m crossing my fingers for the river, first. There’s a weird sort of, octagonal symbol scribbled in? But I don’t know what that means.” He squinted at it, inked in amongst the sparser trees, but the angular-looking drawing of a target didn’t spark any recognition. “Let’s just treat it as... weird... and be a bit more cautious.” 

“Sure.” Dean nodded and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get going, then. The sooner we find the flower, the sooner we can get out of these damned woods.”

Castiel hummed and turned towards their tents, snapping his fingers and watching in satisfaction as they collapsed and folded in on themselves until they were the size of a loaf of bread - easy to be packed away. 

Dean shot him a meaningful look, and Castiel just rolled his eyes. 

Maybe his enchantments  _ were  _ more interesting than he’d allowed himself to think. 

“Ready?” Dean asked, walking over to be by his side. 

Castiel looked down, and reached for Dean’s gloved hand with his own, squeezing once as he let Dean’s happiness at such a small gesture wash over him. 

“Ready.”

***

“I spy with my little eye - something white.”

“Dean, I’m  _ not  _ playing this game anymore.” 

“Oh, c’mon. I promise it’s not what you think it is this time.”

“Snow.”

“Damn, you’re good.”

Castiel let out a long sigh as Dean threw his head back and laughed, nudging him playfully with his shoulder, then let them fall back into comfortable silence. 

The air was a crisp cold, but there was no more wind, so the sound of a few winter birds could be heard in the distance. 

“So,” Dean said, clearing his throat, “you’re okay with holding hands?”

Castiel glanced over at him, and squeezed his hand, letting his own contentment flow through their connection. 

“Yes.”

“What about… kissing?”

Castiel felt his face heat up almost instantly from just those three words. 

“I - yes. I... kissing would be… fine,” he managed, embarrassment creeping in on the edges of his half of the connection that he was trying to stave off. “I would like that.”

Dean nodded to himself, clearly fighting a smile back. 

“Good to know. I’m just… figuring out your boundaries,” Dean said, and Castiel was once again relieved to only feel sincerity in his words. No other intentions but Castiel’s comfort seemed to be on the line.  

“Thank you,” Castiel murmured. 

“Thank  _ you,” _ Dean said back. “Now, I spy with my little eye -”

“ _ No.” _

“It’s not snow this time!”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, studying his wide eyes and pursed lips - trying to be the picture of innocence.

Castiel huffed and began looking. 

“Is it snow?” He said flatly. 

“Nope.”

“A tree?”

“Nuh-uh.”

There wasn’t much else around them. 

The aspen trees had begun to spread out, becoming sparser the further they walked. It was a slight uphill climb, but that was just good news - they had almost reached the mountainside. 

Well, if it wasn’t snow, and it wasn’t the white trees… 

Castiel pressed his lips together as he scanned the area, looking for some sort of animal he may have missed - but the sounds of animals had stopped. 

He squinted, noticing for the first time that there were long icicles hanging from the branches of some of the trees around them. 

“You know that icicles count as snow, right?” Castiel said, raising an eyebrow at Dean, whose mouth fell open. 

“They  _ super _ don’t,” Dean argued, gesturing towards them. “Snow and ice are two  _ different things _ .”

Castiel opened his mouth to argue back, but paused as he looked over at the icicles again. Something felt… off. At first glance, they were hanging down from branches, but as he moved closer, his perspective shifted.

They weren’t attached to anything. 

“Dean,” Castiel murmured, letting go of his hand to deviate from their path and get a closer look. “Look at them.”

The icicles were suspended, hovering in a perfect line between trees, some so translucent they were easy to miss. 

“What the -” Dean swore. “They’re everywhere.”

And they were. 

Castiel turned his head, and between most trees around them were more icicles, lined like frozen soldiers - and the eeriness of the woods that he’d ignored since they first arrived began to grow more insistent. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Castiel took another step forward towards the ice that was at eye-level, and it wasn’t until he was just a foot away that he noticed the icicles weren’t, in fact, levitating at all. 

They were dangling along a thin, translucent string. 

He turned, looking again at the rings of icicles above and below. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he could catch the odd glitter of light off more strings, all around them.

“Huh.” Dean frowned, apparently noticing the same thing as Castiel, as he reached out with a gloved finger to touch the string.

“Dean -” Castiel warned, but it had already been done. 

Dean pressed a single, gloved finger to the hair-thin string running from tree to tree. When he pulled back, the string clung to him - sticking to his finger until he yanked backwards, causing the icicles to shake and fall.

“Shit…”

They both went rigid, sensing that they’d created some sort of disturbance, and Castiel’s eyes shot back and forth between the trees, noticing the pattern in the lines that was startlingly clear now. 

The octagonal-looking target scrawled on the map wasn’t a target at all. 

It was a web.

“We need to leave,” Castiel said. “Now.”

“Shhh.” Castiel could feel alarm, dread, and fear pulsing through their connection. “We should -”

Castiel saw Dean glance upward, freeze, and launch towards him - too late. 

“Cas!”

One moment, Castiel was standing on the ground. The next, there was a fierce bolt of pain through his shoulder, and he felt himself be yanked up into the air. The trees blurred past and then he was spun to face horrible, snapping pincers. 

Straight out of a nightmare, he stared into eight black eyes, the face of a large, white spider - much bigger than he was, and much more terrifying than anything Castiel had ever seen. It was thin and spindly, as if made of icicles itself - but what it lacked in mass it seemed to make up for in speed, as Castiel had barely any time to process what had happened before he was high in the air at the mercy of the ice spider. 

Castiel shouted and clapped his hands together, igniting his gloves in a knee-jerk reaction. He pulsed a hand forward before the clacking mandibles could reach him and shot off a panicked fireball in its face. 

The good part was - fire seemed pretty effective against it. 

The bad part was - the spider let go completely and Castiel fell backwards through the air, hitting the ground hard with only the snow for padding. 

With the wind thoroughly knocked out of him, he watched the creature writhe in the air above him as he gasped for breath, and could vaguely make out the intricate web that had been woven in the treetops over them. 

The two of them had walked right into its home like the world’s stupidest human flies. 

A loud roar rung through the forest and the part of Castiel that wasn’t trying to fight back pain, and assess if anything was broken, recognized the sound of Dean in his bear form. 

At least half of the pain he was feeling wasn’t his own. 

The world went dark, but - no. He hadn’t gone unconscious, at least not yet. His view of the world above him had been blocked by a mass of dark fur as Dean stood over him protectively, growling up at the spider. Dean’s legs were shaking from the pain of just shifting, but all of the feeling he was pushing along their connection was worry. 

“M’okay,” Castiel managed as he finished the assessment of himself. While he would most likely have a very bruised backside for the next week, it didn’t feel like anything had broken. 

And he wasn’t eaten, so that was a plus. 

With another roar Dean shot forward, giving Castiel the space to get back onto his feet with a wince, holding out his hands, ready to fire off another blast. 

Castiel’s original thoughts about the spider were correct. 

It was fast. 

It scrambled along its thinly woven webs, expertly dodging between trees to escape Dean’s bites as he furiously pounded after it. They were in its terrain right now - they’d have to do something drastic if they wanted to gain the upper hand. 

Castiel shot off a couple of fireballs in the spider’s direction when Dean wasn’t anywhere nearby, but by the time they hit, the spider had long since scurried out of the way. 

_ This  _ was why that entire conversation with Dean about his strengths was completely useless.  _ This  _ was where great witches were useful. What was the point of him, if he couldn’t protect himself against creatures like this? 

Another fireball and another dodge - Castiel hobbled over to the other side of the clearing as the spider attempted to scuttle closer, sensing an opening. 

Dean encouraged him to play to his strengths. 

But how was that useful  _ here _ ?

Castiel backed up slowly, arms at the ready as he watched Dean and the spider dance back and forth. The spider was already faster than the two of them, and with Dean slowing down to also deal with the pain - it was only a matter of time before it attacked and completely overcame him. 

Castiel stopped when he hit an icicle, and dread swooped low in his stomach as he took a step forward instead, and felt a tug keeping him in place. 

No, no,  _ no.  _

Such an  _ idiot -  _ He should have been keeping an eye out for the web.

As if sensing his plight, the spider turned towards him, ignoring Dean completely as it ran forward towards its struggling prey. 

Castiel tugged against the webbing in a panic, yanking himself forward until finally -  _ finally _ \- it gave way and he dodged to the side, sending another fireball in its direction that bought him more time. He glanced down at his gloves as he ran, noting the sparks that were starting for spray haphazardly from so much use. They hadn’t been designed to see this much combat, so that was a kink he’d need to iron out later - if there  _ was _ a later. 

Either way, his enchantment wasn’t going to save him for much longer. 

As long as he stayed away from the webbing, he wouldn’t draw as much attention to himself, but that didn’t help Dean. 

The spider was just so damn fast - if only he could buy Dean a few seconds to get his teeth in it. 

Castiel paused, one hand on his Infinity Satchel. 

Maybe he  _ could _ … by playing to his strengths. 

It was a dumb idea. It wasn’t going to work, and when it didn’t, he was toast. 

But it was better than chasing it around until it eventually tired them both out. 

“Dean!” Castiel shouted, digging through his satchel. “I have an idea! Distract it for a few seconds!”

Dean raced past him with a roar, attempting to pounce on a creature that had already jumped back on its web. He kept it at bay, pinning it up on the web by standing up on his two hind legs and slashing at it with his huge paws.

Castiel raced over to the opposite side of the web, and tossed his very bad plan onto the ground a few feet front of him. 

“Let it at me - get ready to follow it!”

And Castiel stepped back into the web again - the one thing the spider didn’t seem to be able to resist. Dean dropped back onto all fours, his huge head swinging round confusedly to look at Castiel.

The moment the vibrations were sent down the line of web, the spider stopped its hissing at Dean and took off across the clearing towards where Castiel was stuck. This time, Castiel didn’t struggle - didn’t try to get away. He had one shot at this. 

“ _ Wait, wait, wait -” _ Castiel whispered to himself, his heart racing a mile a minute in his chest as the long legs of the barely-opaque spider skittered towards him. “ _ Wait, wait -” _

The spider was close enough that Castiel could clearly see its snapping pincers. 

He whispered a command word and snapped his fingers, and the tent sprung up directly underneath the spider. 

The spider screamed as it was launched into the air a few feet and tossed onto its back by the enchanted tent. Its legs thrashed in the air wildly, trying to right itself again - but that was all the time Dean needed to pounce forward and slash through the thorax with his claws. 

Another scream filled the cold air as the spider finally curled in on itself and stopped moving completely, icy blue blood seeping into the snow around it. 

Castiel let out a shuddering breath. He swallowed, and made a little vague noise of relief mixed with disgust.

“I can’t believe that  _ worked. _ ” 

Dean snorted out a breath and slashed at the creature one more time for good measure. 

“I think you got it,” Castiel said, and began the long process of yanking himself out of the web again. “Thank you for that. If you hadn’t been there….” 

He trailed off, his immobility speaking for itself. 

Castiel gave one last tug and wrenched himself free. Dean, meanwhile, was still prodding at the body. He was using his snout, which made Castiel wrinkle his nose. He’d have thought Dean would want to keep his face as far away from it as possible.

“Dean, it’s dead,” Castiel said, extinguishing his gloves and rubbing at his side as he walked towards the bear. “We should get out of here in case there are more.”

Dean ignored him. 

Castiel frowned and rested a hand against Dean’s fur when he got close enough. 

“Dean?”

Dean whipped around and roared at the touch, and Castiel jerked his hand backwards with a start.

He looked into Dean’s eyes - big, dark bear’s eyes - and any trace of the humanity that Castiel could usually see there was gone. Any spark of humor, or anger, had been completely replaced by something else. Something feral. Castiel reeled away, holding his hands up.

Something was very, very wrong.

“ _ Dean.”  _ Castiel took slow steps backwards as the bear continued to growl, walking towards him one lumbering step at a time. “Dean, it’s  _ me.” _

The sense of  _ wrongness _ that was pounding against Castiel’s rib cage only continued to grow with every second that passed. 

This bear was no longer  _ his _ Dean - and, he realised, that had to be the true purpose of the curse. What all of this had truly been leading to - the pain, the difficulty in shifting. It had all been coming to this. 

The witch who’d wanted Dean for his own… if  _ he  _ couldn’t have him, Castiel couldn’t either. 

“Dean,  _ stop, _ ” Castiel pleaded, holding out a gloved hand. In his fear, he saw it start to catch alight, sparks flying as he reached for magic on instinct. He pushed the enchantment away, horrified. He couldn’t hurt Dean. “Snap out of this. Please.”

He reached for their connection - and felt nothing. No warmth. No recognition. No familiarity. Castiel felt the loss like a physical blow to the chest.

The bear snarled, blue blood still dripping from his teeth and claws, spraying snow where he stepped. Nothing from him was human. Not even along the connection that Castiel cherished so much. Everything was pure animal and instinct.

There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Nothing to protect himself with that wouldn’t hurt Dean. 

And the bear was getting closer.

“I know you’re in there, Dean,” he said. “You need to stop. You need to  _ remember. _ ”

Castiel nearly stumbled as a tree hit against his back during his next step. He couldn’t back away any further.

The ache where their connection used to be was a void, an endless space. Trying to grasp it was like gripping smoke as the memories of what it used to feel like began to slip through his fingers. Would it - could it ever come back? How had it just  _ gone?  _

“ _ Please _ , Dean. I - I need you.” Castiel swallowed, and sunk down to his knees in the snow as he stared at the unwavering gaze of a bear. “It’s just the curse. He tried to take you from me - don’t let him win. Not after -”

The bear stopped when his face was just inches from Castiel’s, drool and blood dripping into the snow before him as a low growl rumbled from his throat. 

Castiel removed one glove slowly with shaky hands and reached forward, touching the bear’s face. Stroking his hand along the bear’s cheek, even as its jaws opened wide, and then wider. If Dean were still somewhere in there, Castiel thought, or if he ever remembered this after Castiel was gone, then there was something he should know.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay. I love you, Dean.”

The bear exhaled sharply as he blinked, once - twice - and a small glimmer of the spark Castiel was used to seeing returned.

“I love you _ so much _ ,” Castiel repeated, running his fingers through Dean’s fur over and over, anything to help him ground himself. “Please... come back to me.”

The bear tossed its head from side to side as he made an awful, dismayed noise - and began to shrink in size. The thick masses of brown fur disappeared, claws shrank, teeth receded, as Dean - a human Dean - fell forward in front of Castiel, his head resting in his lap as he shuddered. 

“ _ Dean _ -”

“I’m s- I’m so  _ sorry _ , Cas.”

Relief washed through Castiel like a dam had been broken, and he ran his fingers through Dean’s hair to soothe him through the pain, trying to keep his touch soft even though he wanted grab onto Dean and never, never, never let go. 

“It’s wasn’t your fault. It’s alright,” he murmured, shushing him when he sensed an attempt to argue. “You’re alright and I’m alright. Everything’s alright.”

Dean’s face was hidden from him as his breathing became slower and less erratic. 

Finally, he said the words Castiel had been hoping to hear for so long for Dean’s own safety, but he hadn’t realized how much they would shatter him. 

“Okay. No more shifting.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I think it’s time to call it, Cas.”

Castiel shoved the tent back into his satchel and looked up. 

“Call what?” he asked, still distracted and disoriented from the past ten minutes. 

“This,” Dean said, gesturing around them. “You said I could turn us around if it got too dangerous. We’ve hit that line, and now” - his voice hitched - “I can’t protect us. We should turn around.”

Castiel shook his head emphatically. 

“We’re so close, Dean. The waterfall isn’t that far away.” He pointed ahead of them, out of the woods. “See? Once we hit that hill we should be able to see it. Just a mile or so away.”

“Cas…”

“Please,” Castiel murmured. “I don’t want all of this to have been for nothing.”

Dean looked away, avoiding his eyes. 

“I wouldn’t say this was for  _ nothing,” _ he said. 

“Oh...” Castiel took a step towards him and reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dean let out a breath. 

“I know.” He closed his eyes. “We can keep going. But if you so much as trip over a twig wrong, I’m hoisting you over my shoulder and dragging you back home myself.”

Castiel let himself smile and squeezed his hand. 

“Deal.”

***

Not soon after, they hit a river. 

A rushing river, at least twenty feet across and almost entirely composed of icy rapids. 

The river was a good sign, meaning that if they followed it upwards, they’d eventually hit the waterfall - and, considering how intense the rapids were, Castiel hoped it would be soon. 

Dean was quiet. Castiel could feel his sadness, his confusion - the reality of never being able to shift again beginning to set in. There was no way for Castiel to comfort him properly, no words of solace he could offer, nothing that could begin to scratch the surface. 

Instead, he let Dean be.

***

The waterfall was huge. And loud. And powerful. 

By the time they reached it, the sun was just beginning to set and was casting an orange glow over the snow around them. 

“Well,” Castiel turned to Dean on the bank of the river. “We made it. And I only stumbled a little bit that one time.”

Dean gave him a small half-smile for his attempt to lighten the mood.

That was fine. 

Everything would hopefully be back to normal again soon, anyway. 

Castiel scanned the opposite side of the riverbank, and there, nestled not too far past the river, was a single blue flower.

Catching his breath, Castiel went totally still. The Moonflower. It was  _ there. _

As night fell, its bloom was just starting to open; it looked so delicate, and quite pretty. And so  _ tiny.  _ Utterly tiny, not sparkling magically or swaying or doing anything special. If Castiel had seen it back home outside their house, he might have walked right past it without even stopping to admire it.

“Is - is that it?” Dean said.

“Yes,” Castiel’s grip on Dean’s hand tightened, as everything they’d come so far for was right  _ there. _ The answer to their problems was just a river away. 

A very rapid river. 

“So the plan now is....” Dean raised an eyebrow at him. 

Castiel chewed his lip. 

Swimming over was definitely out. The water was fast enough that it would sweep away any human that tried to swim across, and would likely dash them against the rocks. A bear would probably be able to make the trip, but that was also out of the question for obvious reasons. Neither of them were willing to have a repeat of Dean losing himself; unspoken between them, but agreed upon, was the quietly horrifying certainty that he wouldn’t be able to come back a second time. 

Through their connection, Castiel could feel the memory of the moment Dean had come back. It had felt like pulling himself back up a cliff with the strength of a single finger. The curse had always been worse every time Dean changed - if it were any worse than that, he didn’t stand a chance.

Dean had said it himself. No more shifting.

“Cas? Plan?”

“I… will cast a levitation spell on myself and carry myself across the river to get it,” Castiel said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. 

Dean frowned at him. 

“That spell tires you out fast, Cas. You won’t make it across.” Dean turned back to the river. He sounded a little listless, and Castiel could tell his mind was still on the curse, but he was doing his best to engage. “And I don’t know if this is something that playing to your strength can fix, either.”

Castiel’s strength?

His strength. 

Enchanting objects. 

Yes, Dean was probably right on that one. What could Castiel enchant? The whole river? The flower itself? Too much power needed, or too high a risk of damaging what they’d come so far to find. No, relying on his strength wasn’t going to work.

So his weakness would have to do. 

“I’ll be fine,” Castiel said, pulling his hand back and cracking his knuckles. “We’re too close to give up now.”

“Then cast it on  _ me _ ,” Dean said, stepping in front of him. “If you think you can do it - cast it on me, and I’ll go get the flower.”

Castiel clenched his jaw. 

“No.”

“Why not?” 

“You’re heavier than me.”

“Not by  _ much, _ ” Dean countered, and folded his arms in front of his chest. “You agree with me, you just don’t mind being wrong when  _ your _ life's on the line.”

“Dean, it’s  _ right there! _ ” Castiel gestured furiously at the flower, just a river away. “ _ Please _ let me go and get it.”

“This is my line in the sand, Cas.” Dean shook his head slowly. “This is too dangerous. We tried, but now we go back. We’ll figure this out - but that flower isn’t the answer if it’s going to get you hurt. No amount of money that thing is worth, is worth more than your safety, okay?”

Castiel’s fists balled at his sides, but he ducked his head and swallowed thickly. 

His goal was within reach, and to give up now… 

“Fine,” Castiel said, letting his disappointment run deep along their connection. He poured in every ounce of sadness and frustration he felt - while tucking away his resolve. “We should eat and rest, then. We have a long journey back… and I’m tired.”

Dean pulled him into a tight hug, and Castiel allowed himself this one luxury. Dean was warm and safe and everything that Castiel was fighting for. 

Dean would understand. 

***

Castiel waited for Dean’s breathing to slow and lengthen against his back and for the connection between them to become muted and fuzzy. He hated deceiving him, but once he had the flower in his hand, everything would be worth it. Things could go back to the way they were before this curse became a part of their lives. 

Dean could be  _ Dean _ again. 

When all the signs of sleep were ticked off Castiel’s mental list, slowly, ever so slowly, he extracted himself from Dean’s arms, slipped on his shoes, and headed back out into the night. The moon was full, and when he reached the river’s edge, the flower was in full bloom. 

Now, it was truly beautiful - a deep blue faintly glowing in the moonlight, beckoning him to take the final step of his journey. Just one good spell and their problems would be solved. 

Castiel inhaled,

and exhaled. 

No, this wasn’t his strength… but it would have to do. 

Power fell from his tongue as he spoke the incantation, each word lifting him a little bit higher into the air until he was hovering, and already he could feel himself being drained. 

And forward -

Two strong arms latched across Castiel’s waist, hard, and tugged him back down, breaking his concentration as well as the spell. 

“ _ Oof -” _

“ _ What the hell are you doing?” _

Castiel struggled against Dean’s grasp, frustrated tears beginning to well up after being shoved down for so long. Their twin breaths plumed through the dark, moonlit air as they fought each other.

“I am a grown man and I can make my own decisions!” Castiel said, twisting until Dean let go. “We  _ need  _ that flower and I’m going to go  _ get it!” _

Dean looked on the verge of tears himself, trying to decide if he should grab at Castiel again, but wasn’t sure which was the worse option. 

“Castiel. Listen to me,” he pleaded, and it broke Castiel’s heart to hear him so desperate. “We don’t  _ need _ the money. We’ll figure something else out, I  _ promise you.  _ I’ll work two - three jobs if I have to, okay? I can’t lose you -”

“That flower can  _ cure you!” _ Castiel burst out, the words finally breaking through the wall Castiel had built up around them. He’d held that truth back and kept it secret with every ounce of will that he’d learned to use over the years. “That flower can _ break the curse  _ that is causing you so much pain and suffering, and I need to do that for you. I’m not going to sell it. I never was.”

Dean’s mouth fell open as he took a small step back. 

“Wh - why didn’t -”

“If you knew that this whole journey was all about saving you - you would have never let us get this far,” Castiel said, wiping at his eyes angrily. “I know how you think. You never think you’re worth it - but you are. You are  _ so _ worth saving, Dean. Please. Let me try.”

A war of emotions crossed Dean’s face in the moonlight. Hurt, hope, confusion. Castiel didn’t blame him for any of it. 

“You can try,” Dean said, finally, and Castiel’s heart soared. “But not like this.”

“What?  _ Dean - _ ” 

“If this is about me, then it’s my decision.” Dean swallowed and grit his teeth like he was trying to be firm. “This is too dangerous. Find another way - and if you can’t - find another solution, other than the flower. Just not this, Cas. Not like this.” 

“Dean,” Castiel pleaded, “I just want to help. And this is the only thing I can think of. There’s nothing else. There’s no other way to solve this. It’s just right… right there.” Castiel looked out across the river, at the flower - glowing peacefully, so tiny, so unrelentingly distant. How he hated it. How he wanted it.

“I know,” Dean said, “But it’s okay. You don’t have to solve everything.”

Castiel let himself fall silent for a few moments. 

“I don’t even remember what we argued about,” he said softly, wiping at his eyes. 

Dean put his head on one side. 

“What?”

“The night you left. We argued and you left to cool down.” Castiel dropped his chin, shame welling up in his chest. “That was the night the witch cornered you. It was because I argued with you, and I don’t even remember  _ why.” _

“Oh, Cas.” Dean rested a hand on his cheek. “C’mon. It wasn’t important. Arguing happens. I  _ promise _ you this wasn’t your fault. And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”

“It just - it feels like it,” Castiel murmured, but leaned into his touch. “I let the worst possible thing happen to you over something I don’t even remember. You don’t know what I’d give to take that back. What I’d give to put it right. I’d do anything, Dean.”

He looked up into Dean’s eyes.

_ Please,  _ he said, along their connection, sending begging, sending pleading.  _ Please, let me do this. _

There was another beat of silence.

“Did you mean what you said?” Dean asked, his expression going soft as he swayed a little further forward. “Back in the forest. When you were trying to get through to me. Did you mean it?”

Had he meant - of  _ course  _ he had. 

He’d meant those words more than he’d meant anything in his life. 

“Yes.” Castiel answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good. Because I - I love you, too,” Dean said, and took Castiel’s hand. “Which is why I can’t let you do this for me. I love you, but I know what your strengths are, and I don’t want you to end up hurt or worse because you’re ignoring them. This wasn’t your fault - and I need you to stop thinking it was.”

His  _ strengths - _ what useless strengths they were.

What good was a strength if it couldn’t help him cure Dean? He’d done hours upon hours of spell research looking for a counter-curse or potion, but he hadn’t even been able to find out what the curse  _ was.  _ And even if he had, Castiel wouldn’t be powerful enough to remove it.

“What if there is no other way?” Castiel asked, swallowing thickly. “What if this is it, and I can’t find anything else?”

Dean shrugged, and swung their hands back and forth where they were clasped together. 

“Then... that’s that. I get used to being a human full-time.” He smiled encouragingly, and though Castiel could feel the hollow dread behind it, he could feel Dean’s determination, too. “But if there  _ is  _ something else, you’ll find it. You’ll make it work. I know you will.”

If only Dean was right. 

Truth was, Castiel knew a lot of things in theory, but his limitations didn’t always allow him to put much into successful practice. 

If Dean had been an enchantable object, it might be a different story - but he wasn’t.

Castiel slowed their hands to a stop as he stared at the shared contact between them. Their joined hands, clasped together in the moonlight.

Well... why not? 

Castiel knew all the ins and outs of enchanted objects - knew how to improve them, tweak them, and remove any unwanted side-effects. It had taken quite a lot of experimentation but his knowledge in that area far outweighed any other area of magic. 

Like Dean had pointed out, enchantments were his strength. 

A curse…  _ could  _ be considered a type of enchantment. 

But this was on a  _ person _ , not an object. A living, breathing person with  _ thoughts _ and  _ feelings _ and  _ intricacies _ . A simple object couldn’t compare to the complexity of a human.

If… if he  _ were _ to try to remove an enchantment from an object, or at least render it null, how would he begin to do it? 

“Cas?” Dean murmured, rubbing his thumb along his hand soothingly. “You okay?”

“Yes, fine, just”- Castiel licked his lips stared off into space, running through a few practice tests in his mind - “give me a moment.”

It…  _ could _ work. In theory. It probably wouldn’t, thought. 

“Can I - can I try something?” Castiel asked hesitantly. 

Dean frowned. 

“Cas -”

“No, something different.” Castiel pulled his hand away. “Something that might be… odd.”

Dean’s frown softened as his expression turned thoughtful. 

“Yeah. Whatever you need.”

“Alright.” Castiel took a breath and slowly put both of his hands on Dean’s face. “I need to you stay as still as possible and, uh... try not to speak.”

“... Okay?”

Castiel found his gaze reaching across the river, for the flower, one more time - and then he focused, and shut his eyes. 

“I need to pretend you’re an object. Talking ruins that.”

This was going to be like any other enchanted object he’d had to tweak before - it was just a matter of finding the enchantment, molding it, or transferring it elsewhere. 

Dean was nothing more than an item that had been given the wrong task to do, and Castiel was going to correct it. 

The quickest way to dive into Dean was through their connection - just like Castiel would make with any enchanted item. Normally, he had to build it, pour magic from inside himself into the object and then shape the magic into what he wanted. This time, he couldn’t send any of his own magic, not like usual - that way lay curses, and Castiel didn’t want to risk even the slightest chance of accidentally putting another curse on Dean - but the magic was already there, wasn’t it? Dean had magic of his own, and that was something Castiel could reach for, could shape. There was a connection just like usual, only this one just happened to be very strong and very complex and very intense - and he just had to follow it. Not wait for Dean to push feelings, but instead trace his way along it, feel his way towards the glowing magic inside the object - the person, Dean, the magic inside him -

It felt like climbing his way, hand over hand, along a horizontal rope made of fire, made of concentrated sunlight, over a chasm that dropped down impossibly far. And the rope was searing him, burning him; not deliberately, no, but this wasn’t a connection that was made to be crossed, not like this. It was meant to be looked at, sensed, acknowledged - but not touched. The heat of it was so bad that Castiel wanted to let go, wanted to turn back, give up, or at least cry out -

_ If there is something else, you’ll find it. You’ll make it work. I know you will. _

Dean’s voice echoed in his memory, and he gritted his teeth, and he held on. 

Dean was counting on him. Dean believed in him. Castiel couldn’t give up - and he couldn’t cry out, or Dean would step back and stop him.

He kept moving. Inch by inch, he came closer. It hurt so badly. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt -

And then, quite suddenly, he was across. The pain seeped away. The burning stopped.

He was through. No more climbing across the connection between them, no more sun-bright hurt, because he was through.

And  _ oh _ , there was a brightness inside of Dean that took Castiel’s breath away. It was gentle, it was beautiful; it radiated warmth, and love, and everything that made Dean who he was. It was his essence, and his core.

And it needed help. 

Dean - the object, Castiel reminded himself, when he felt a spike of panic about what he was doing, about how little he knew, how easily this could go wrong - the object’s core had something dark attached to it, wrapping around its middle in an ever-encompassing grasp, an eternal ring, swallowing its own tail round and round. Where it touched, the light of Dean’s core was dimmed and cracked. 

_ The curse,  _ Castiel’s mind whispered to him.  _ That’s the curse. _

He pressed his lips together. 

Not right now, it wasn’t. Right now, it was simply a faulty enchantment that was rendering the object unable to perform the task it was made to make. That wouldn’t do. In fact, the corruption of the enchantment was so great, it would probably be best to remove it completely and start from scratch. 

Castiel reached for the dark magic, coaxing it towards him and away from the glow of the core that it clung to - away from the possibility of more harm. It held tighter for brief moment, and Castiel felt Dean wince, shrink away, pull physically back in a way that a simple object never would.

_Must have bumped the table_ , Castiel reasoned with himself, steadying his line of thinking. _I’ll_ _have to keep myself more still._

He reached out again for the broken magic, so slowly, so patiently. Even though he tried to see it as only a faulty enchantment, though, it was so obvious virulent, so cruel - a curse, unmistakably, and he hated it. He could see its oily colours, its flowing tendrils; it felt like a hundred tiny mouths all seeking to bite, a hundred vicious eyes staring malevolently. 

_ No,  _ Castiel thought, not malevolently.  _ Magic can’t be evil. Magic just does what it was made to do. A bear isn’t evil for killing a man. A curse isn’t evil for killing a bear. _

He reached out, no hatred in him now, no anger.

_ Come on,  _ he said.  _ Time to let go. You did what you were made to do. It’s done. You did well. Time to let go. _

Finally, a single dark tendril peeled away from Dean’s core - and then another, and another. The mouths seemed to close, their teeth sheathed. The eyes seemed to soften, and then sleep. The curse quieted, rested. 

Castiel felt worry grasp for him again - if it were to wake up, if he should falter now -

He swallowed. This was an object, and that was just another enchantment. A very corrupt enchantment, indeed. The witch who’d done it should practice more care with their magic. He reached out, and took it carefully in his grip.

The corruption crawled towards him willingly, away from the light. He had it. He  _ had  _ it. None was left in Dean, his core was clear and bright - and Castiel fled, he fled back along their connection, and pulling away was so much easier and quicker than climbing across had been. Or maybe the heat only felt like nothing, now, when he had the curse,  _ he had it,  _ he was going to do this - he was  _ actually  _ going to do it. Castiel’s eyes flew open as he pulled back from Dean’s head, with the curse held tightly in his hands. 

Dean was staring back at him with wide eyes, a hesitant smile on his lips, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed it yet. 

“Did you -”

“The - the enchantment that held you is corrupt,” Castiel said, smiling at him in the light of the full moon. “There’s no more use for it.”

The curse, black and sleeping and content, its purpose finished, lay dormant in his hands. Just like he would with any faulty spell that he’d find on an object, he crushed his palms together and unmade it, the threads of magic unspooling painlessly into the air. Black wisps of smoke curled upwards, and vanished into the night. 

“You - you did it.” Dean’s disbelieving smile widened into grin as he patted at his chest. “I can  _ feel _ it! Wait, hold on -”

Dean took a step backwards, and in a matter of seconds a familiar, large, brown-colored bear reared up onto two of his legs and pounded back down on the ground, and then Dean was back with delighted tears welling up in his eyes. 

“There’s - there’s no more pain! I can just -”

Another shift to and from the bear. 

Through their connection - the one that burned so bright, the one that reached so deep - Castiel could feel joy. Pure, heady, giddying joy. He realised that he was crying, too, when he felt wetness on his cheeks and reached up to touch tears.

The bear let out a loud roar into the sky against the full moon and raced forward, knocking Castiel down into the snow, but instead of a mountain of muscle and fur crashing down over him, Castiel was looking up into beautiful green eyes and a warm freckled face, staring at him like he’d given him the world. 

“Thank you,” Dean murmured, his arms framing both sides of Castiel’s head, and Castiel couldn’t breath again, “You’re amazing, Castiel.”

Castiel flushed, despite the cold against his back. 

“I just… focused on my strengths.”

Dean grinned. 

“You did. And I’m so proud of you.”

Castiel reached up, and with one hand combed his fingers through Dean’s hair, staring into his eyes for a few more seconds before tugging him down and pressing their lips together for the first time.  _ Love _ sang through their connection, eclipsing any other thoughts, and drowning out all worries.

It was just the two of them - witch and familiar - becoming so much more, and yet exactly the same. 

Behind them, across a rushing, icy river was the Moonflower - where it would remain, undisturbed.


End file.
